


Vice

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: Carmen Sandiego (2019)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Best Friends, Carmen is 21, Coach Brunt implied, Do not post to another site, Friendship, Gen, Hypothermia mention, Ivy is 25, Near Death Experience, Nightmare, Panic Attack, Platonic Relationship, Player is 15/16, Spoilers, Zach is 23, dunno why ages are just for future reference, headcanons, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-26 06:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: The fact is, Player and Carmen are best friends.
Relationships: Carmen & Player, Team Carmen
Comments: 31
Kudos: 265





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look I love Player and Carmen, they’re such cutie pies, and while she stays strong all the time the girl’s got trauma.
> 
> Time does NOT match up in the series well, especially because Carmen looks like 15, maybe 16(?) when she leaves VILE Isle, but is now confirmed at least 21 when not on Vile. That’s 5-6 years difference, even though they supposedly have a years worth of info. So I think it took them a few years to get through that info.
> 
> I headcanon that Carmen and Player stayed connected on a headpiece a lot in the beginning, Since he was her only friend and confidant. So they were always easily in reach. 
> 
> This contains spoilers for Seasons 1&2.
> 
> Might do a second chapter more focused on the panic attack. Sorry this is clunky!!!

There’s a few simple truths that they know.

The first night Carmen leaves VILE Isle, she sleeps on a boat with an earbud left in her ear and the phone in her hand. She clenches, holding it tight to herself, waking up in spurts and bursts to reassure herself that the one person she trusts most in this world is still there.

Even when Player goes to bed at his standard time, he has a set up so they can hear one another breathing while they sleep. It’s comforting, and lulls Carmen back into her many-houred nap.

After that, it becomes habit. They rarely let one another out of hearing, even when Player packs up to go to school; he manages a wireless earcom for himself, wishes he had one for Carmen. She gets the delight of hearing him mutter throughout school and at classmates.

By time she makes landfall and Player has had dinner, she trecks forward with her knew identity, and Player’s reassurances in her ear. She didn’t know how normal people acted, or how to start this long upheaval of VILE. But her best friend was there, and would help her every step of the way.

* * *

When Zach and Ivy join their group, Carmen _finally_ gets a proper wireless com.

(She, briefly, had a ramshackle one; but it lost service and petered out often.)

She thanks Ivy profusely and the red-head, abashed, accepte the praise. “This really is your greatest work yet,” she murmurs, putting it in her ear.

“So how’s it workin’, Red?”

She almost cries with relief. His voice is crystal clear, right there. Better than the phone and earbuds had ever been.

There’s a comfort, to have the constant access to Player. It’s easy to turn on or off if she desires, she can sleep with it on, it can withstand weather and temperature and water-

It’s just _sheer relief._

* * *

Eventually the phone is butchered; it’s parts into Carmen’s new red cell.

It hurts, a little bit, but she can’t have recognizable VILE tech on her, especially if it could be traced to Player.

Ivy tears it apart and, with Player’s help, remakes it into something new with the metal and circuits Zach manages to bring back.

In the end, she keeps the old earbuds for nostalgia if not much else.

The phone is kept on her, watched almost as closely as the earcom.

* * *

By time Shadowsan has joined their little family, he hasn’t seen the depth of Carmen and Player’s relationship.

They had been so overly dependent on one another and hadn’t realized until Zach had talked with her one day; he knew what it was like when you only had one person who was your whole world. But if you didn’t take time to yourself, let yourself _be_ yourself, then. . .it could be a mess. When he glanced towards his sister, who was chatting with Player on their laptop, Carmen understood.

So she had backed off. Didn’t rely on having to hear Player’s every breath. She slept without the earcom unless she really couldn’t sleep. Player had caught on, of course; kid was smart. But when they had talked things out, he agreed, trying to work on his own sleep and overwhelming worries and urge to protect her and the team.

And it worked out okay. The phone was on the bedside table, within reach, but not clenched in her hand. Player turned away from his monitor set-up at night, light low. The only times they called late, late at night on ‘days off’ was if one was having a nightmare.

So Shadownsan wasn’t privy to _them_.

Until sometime after Carmen almost died from hypothermia.

* * *

  
It’s nearing two in the morning in their newly established base. Shadowsan returned late from a mission, intent to check on the girl as he slipped in, silent as his namesake.

But Carmen wasn’t on the couch.

He was alarmed, and further so as he heard a choked gasp coming from a bathroom further down the hall.

“Carmen?”

Her hair is a knotted mess of curls and she’s shaking, _crying_, Shadowsan realizes. He’s never seen Black Sheep cry.

He tells himself to focus. He sees that her eyes focus on nothing and she’s curling forward. She looks like she’s struggling to breathe.

“Carmen?” He tries again, gentler. But as he reaches for her, she flinches and whimpers, burying herself further in the corner beneath the sink.

Shadowsan then sees the earcom in her hand, rattling, as she tries to bring it to her ear.

“Player?” It’s a muted whimper. She doesn’t sob. Doesn’t actively cry. Tears just stream down as she struggles desperately for a single, stable breath.

Player must respond because she slumps the tiniest bit. “‘Urts,” she slurs, “can- can’t bre’the.”

“Let’s leave ‘em alone, eh?” Shadowsan doesn’t show how startled he is as he turns. Ivy’s there, urging him away. He follows reluctantly.

“She’s having a panic attack.” His words puncture the air, almost leaving a hissing trail.

“I _know_ that. Player’s takin’ care of it. Now c’mon an’ help me’n’Zach make some tea for Carm.”

Ivy’s got her hand latched in the sleeve of his shirt and is dragging him along; he follows, resistance bleeding away. “This has happened before.”

Ivy grunts.

“Why aren’t we there with her then,” he demands, cold.

“B’cause Carm trusts Player more’n anyone in the world,” Zach answers as Ivy and Shadowsan round the corner and into the kitchen. “He’s ‘er best friend.”

“But wouldn’t that be you two? He is a child much younger than her, why would she be closer to him?”

Zach rolls his eyes as he lets the tea seep. “She’s known ‘im since VILE. You’ll have ta get the whole story outta her.”

“Plus, Player’s sixteen. He ain’t that much younger’en her.”

“He’s got baby face,” Zach adds before Shadowsan can ask.

Shadowsan decides to keep the majority of his other questions for Carmen, later, when she’s in a better frame of mind.

“And . . .this will ultimately help her? For us to. . . to stay away?”

There’s a thump as one of the mugs are set down a little hard. “Look,” Zach meets Shadowsan’s hard stare, “I know ye’re all concerned and whatnot but keep in mind that for _years_ Carm thought you were one o’ the ones who betrayed ‘er. Player has always had her back, always been there far as she cares. He’s never ‘urt ‘er or nothin’. So yeah, we trust ‘im to help ‘er.”

Shadowsan is surprised by the boys honesty, as well as when a mug of tea is shoved into his hands. “Here, some white tea. It’ll calm yer muscles. I’ll take some ta Carm, see if she’s ready fer it.” He gives a mug to Ivy as he leaves.

The sister sighs. “He’s right ya know. I get that you have the whole ‘dad’ thing with Carm, but it’s not the same. She ain’t Black Sheep no more. She’s Carmen. An’ Carmen loves and trusts her family, but this? This is beyond that. She’s got bits broken like all uh us. Player’s the one she trusts ta pick up tha pieces. It’s the same wit’ me’n’Zach.”

They’re silent for a time. They can hear Zach’s voice drift from the hallway. A low murmur that might be Carmen.   
  
“Her. . .best friend.” He lets the words drift. Tries to understand them.

“Yeah.” To Ivy, that’s enough of an agreement. It’s good if they're all on the same page.

Because if there’s one thing they all know with absolutely certainty, it’s that Player and Carmen are best friends, and always will be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know where the _heck_ you all came from but go off I guess.
> 
> Welcome to part two of the train wreck.
> 
> **Warning:** Depictions of a nightmare, choking, attempted murder, and a panic attack as well as references to hypothermia. If you know that these are a potential trigger to you, or feel they make ne when you start reading, please, take care of yourself and stop reading.

It was warm sunlight melting to darkness; Gray was smiling and laughing as they drank tea, face bathed orange in the sunset.

“You remember when we ballooned tha’ bookkeeper?”   
  
Carmen can’t help snorting; the soft glow of the café lights in the dark night helped her see the gleam in his eye.

Something rugged at her memory, but it fell away easily as shredding tissue paper.

“Cookie’s face! man was she mad.”

“Not as mad as I was.” It’s Sheena’s voice. And then Gray is gone and Carmen is up, up, up, with the wind whipping at her, and purple stamps tattooed over Tigress’ exposed skin. Her claws flick out. “Because of _your_ stupid stunt I got in trouble!”

Carmen feels a snarl tug at her own face. “Please. You didn’t even have to be there!”

“But she’s right, Lambkins. You caused an awful lot of trouble.”

Her breath chokes out as arms wrap around her from behind. It’s dark in the room, concrete walls and floors sucking away any warmth. Even the arms behind her that squeeze tighter feel like cool marble.

She sinks further in the snow drift as a pair of hands encircle her neck in addition to the ones crushing her ribs. She feels each bone snap further, stabbing into her lungs-

“Shhh, Lambkins. It’s just time for bed. How about a song.” The humming vibrates through the hands that dig into neck, and then she feels as the humming comes from _her_ throat, collapsing under giant hands, the other pair snapping, squishing into her lungs, blood leaking out the sides of her chest and her nose and mouth-

She wakes up with a strangled scream, rolling off the couch and scrabbling as she hits the floor. She doesn’t remember turning on the light, doesn’t feel the cool tile beneath her bare legs because she’s _too cold _and _can’t breathe_-!

There’s a voice and she flinches; it’s harder to breathe; she knows this, who, but can’t- it’s not safe, they tricked- she needs, she needs-

_Player._

It’s the first calmed thought to enter her frantic mind.

Her hands tremble, and she struggles to get the earpiece in. But once she does, the comm gives a muted blip that sounds like an atomic blast.

“Player?” She croaks our in a harsh whimper. Had the name even passed her lips?

“Red?” _He’s there he’s here it’s okay_\- “What’s wrong? You’re breathing funny.”

“Hurts,” she tries to say. She can’t even really hear herself. “Can’t- cant breathe.” Her throat feels like it’s been crushed in a vice grip, the insides stuck together.

“Okay” some unintelligible mumbling. “Carmen? Listen, okay. Just listen. Got it?” She can’t even nod, her chest burns and her visions wavers, static gray closing in at the edges. She closes her eyes and just does as Player says. Tries to listen.

He sings the continents of the world song.

It’s something stupid, he claims, a chime they learned in elementary school to remember the continents. But Carmen always liked it, in its simplicity, since VILE taught her nothing but the highest and best.

So when he starts to sing it, his voice catching and cracking at parts in all his sixteen year old glory (not that she would _ever_ make fun of him for that), she loosens up. Slides into the wall and listens; there’s past conversations in that song. Memories. Images snapshot in her mind.

Slowly, the cold creeps out, and the ache settles in. Her whole body hurts, especially the joints collapsed against the ground and floor. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.

And Player sings it over and over and over again, sometimes switching to humming, other times using what sounds suspiciously like a kazoo.

She’s still shaky and weak from the ordeal, but she doesn’t feel like she’s dying all over again.

By time she feels like the panic has left her system - who knows how long? - she manages a shaky, “thanks.”

Player’s reply is just as soft. “Of course, Carmen. You do the same for me. We have each other’s backs, remember?”

“Best friends,” she silently agrees.

“Best friends,” he echoes.

It’s quiet for the moment. If she strains her ear she can here Ivy and Zach murmuring to Shadowsan.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Wanna talk about it? Or too soon?”

She grunts. “Coach Brunt, and the snow.”

He hums. “You. . .gonna be okay?”

“You’re here.” It seems that’s answer enough because he doesn’t respond. There’s clicking as his fingers race across a keyboard, she presumes. A small smile twitches on her lips.

“Thank you. Just, really. Thank you.”

There’s more than just the thank you for tonight; it’s for all the other nights, panic attacks, injuries.

It’s for the friendship he gave and kept with her. It’s for the solace in one another.

It’s for him being him.

“Thank you too, then.”

_Thank you for being my best friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I do dream sequences in italics but once in a while I try this format.
> 
> If it’s not clear I cut it off just before Zach comes over with the tea.


End file.
